Daddy and I have established a good walking partnership. That’s primarily a result of Daddy going where I want to go and letting me stop and sniff along the way.
I’ve written before about how he is trying to persuade me to slow down and to stop pulling him. And, I am proud to say that I have slowed down a little.
One of the big things that Daddy thinks I need to work on is my reaction when I see other dogs on our walks. I really, really, really get excited. Mostly, I am curious about the other dogs. But I am still a little shy and perhaps a little anxious when they get too close.
Several weeks ago on a Saturday morning, Daddy and I were on our “short route” through the neighborhood. Daddy tried to get me to turn toward the university for our campus walk. But I just felt like the neighborhood needed our presence that morning. We had a nice stroll behind the fire station and through the streets just east of our house. We were back to our street and rounding a slight bend when Daddy alerted me to a situation.
Coming toward us was a jogger tethered to a young German Shepherd. They were still several houses away when Daddy pulled me up into a driveway on the opposite side of the street. As he always does, he told me to sit. And when I did, he gave me a treat and told me I was such a good dog.
Then he talked to me very quietly. The monologue was something like: “Blah. Blah. Blah . . . that dog is friendly and doesn’t intend you any harm . . . Blah. Blah. Blah . . . just relax and let him pass by . . . Blah. Blah. Blah.”
During the entire speech, I watched the approaching dog and his jogger. Indeed, they seemed rather intent on what they were doing. But then, just as they got across from us they had to veer closer because of the cars parked on the street. Daddy had unwittingly stopped me right across from a humongous garage sale. It was in that moment that the other dog noticed me and pulled on his leash in my direction.
It was also in that moment that Daddy decided that the threat of any reaction by me was over. “Heel,” he said. And I stood and started forward. Daddy thought we were in the clear. But when the Shepherd leaned just a bit more toward me, I couldn’t take it. I lunged.
I always walk on Daddy’s left. It just so happened that the other dog was on Daddy’s right. When I lunged, I plowed right into Daddy. I don’t know how he missed it, but he didn’t see me coming.
Boom. Down went Daddy right in the street. He was surprised. I was surprised. The jogger and other dog sauntered on. And the three people carrying off their bounty from the garage sale seemed surprised.
Fortunately, Daddy wasn’t seriously hurt. A twisted and scuffed knee was all he later reported. I think it was mostly his pride that was hurting. As the garage sale patrons stood there with various baskets, garden hoses, and hangers full of shirts and dresses in hand, I think they wanted to ask Daddy if he was okay. But Daddy was off and headed down the street. For once, he was pulling me.
About halfway back home from the spot of the incident, Daddy stopped me and had me sit again. No treat this time. We call this a learning moment. Those moments are largely unnecessary because I’m always two steps ahead of Daddy in his thinking — and normally on the walks. Except, of course, for the lunge.
I assured Daddy that I was fully aware that this had been a bad situation.1 I gave him an appropriate look of shame for my behavior. And I licked his nose. He’s a pushover for a lick to the nose.
Let’s face it. I made a mistake. However, as Daddy says, the important thing is learning from our mistakes. I did. More importantly, I hope Daddy did, too.
I learned the phrase “bad situation” from my three-year-old cousin, Henry. He is quite artful in its use.
Mia, you’d better take care of Daddy. He counts on you and you, him. Learning moment.
Just a situation. Sometimes it just goes the way you don’t expect. I’d love a nose lick from you Mia.